Still Waters. Shirlee McCoy
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extra minutes to compose herself would have made the day just a little too easy.
“Just a minute.” A last swipe with the tissue, a quick hand through hopelessly tangled hair and Tiffany was ready to face the world.
The corridor she stepped into seemed dark compared to the bright light in the bathroom and she didn’t see the person standing against the wall until he spoke. “Doris told me you needed a ride home.”
Praying the corridor was dark enough to hide her tear-ravaged face, Tiffany turned to face Jake Reed. “Not really. My house isn’t far. I can walk.”
“I don’t mind giving you a ride home. Besides, how else are you going to get the dog there? I think he’s too tired to walk.”
Tiffany’s heart clenched as she pictured the pitiful mountain of black fur and soulful dark eyes. She’d forgotten about the dog. “Is he doing okay?”
“He seems fine. Just tired. I came in to get him some water. It’s getting hot out there.”
“Yeah, and he has been through a lot. I doubt walking a mile in the heat would be good for him. Maybe I’ll take you up on that ride after all.” Tiffany seized upon the excuse Jake offered her.
“Good. Why don’t you go out the back door there?” Jake gestured to a door at the end of the hall. “I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes.”
Tiffany attempted to smile her gratefulness, but knew her expression fell short of the mark. “All right. Thank you.”
Jake watched her go and tried hard to convince himself he didn’t care that she’d been crying; tried even harder not to notice the proud tilt of her curl-covered head or the unconscious grace with which she moved.
Dr. Brian was an idiot.
A flash of light illuminated the hall as Tiffany disappeared into the morning sunshine. The back door had been a good idea. Even the dim light of the corridor hadn’t hidden the downcast turn of Tiffany’s eyes or the dejected slump of her shoulders. Jake figured she was as uncomfortable with her tears as he was. He was glad she didn’t have to show them to the world.
Not that she’d slunk away like a coward. She’d left with her head high and her chin lifted. Jake admired her grit. Turning away, he headed back to the dining room.
Doris was waiting.
“She still locked in the ladies’ room? Got myself a key around here somewhere. Just hold on a minute and I’ll get it.”
“No need for that, Miss Doris. Tiffany went out the back way. She’s waiting in the truck.”
Doris stared hard, as if trying to ascertain the truthfulness of Jake’s statement. Jake stared back, wishing he didn’t feel like a school kid sitting in the principal’s office. A moment passed with neither speaking. Then, apparently satisfied with what she saw, Doris nodded regally and stepped away. “Good. I figured I could count on you.”
She reached behind the counter and grabbed a brown bag and a cup carrier, thrusting them both toward Jake, “Wrapped this up while you were fetching Tiff. The drink with the straw is diet. That’s what Tiffany always orders. Now get outta here and get that girl home.”
Before Jake could utter a word of thanks, Doris rushed away, weaving between tables and around customers with an ease born of years waiting tables for a living. She was a force to be reckoned with, a strong woman who had worked hard for a small piece of the American dream.
Pulling a soggy wallet out of his pocket, Jake took out several bills and placed them next to the cash register. Doris would complain later, but for now she was too busy to notice the money he’d left. Replacing his wallet, Jake moved toward the door. He needed to get Tiffany Anderson and the mutt home. Then, since he was up and about already, he’d see what he could find out about the morning’s events.
There’d been a slew of misdemeanor offenses this summer—a bit of graffiti, stolen merchandise in a few main street shops, loud music in the early hours of the morning. Jake had a good idea the same teens causing the summer’s mischief were responsible for throwing the dog into the lake. He’d ask a few questions, file a report at the office, and then, finally, he could begin his vacation.
The meteorologists were saying it would be a record-breaking day. Tiffany believed it. Already heat shimmered up from the pavement in waves of silver and black. The damp clothes she wore warmed quickly, the moisture evaporating as she waited for Jake to emerge from the diner. Part of her wanted to leap from the cab of the truck and run for home before he returned. The other part didn’t have the energy to move.
She felt like a fool twice over. First for trying to save the dog and almost drowning herself in the process and second for expecting Brian to be waiting for her, only to find he had gone. Tiffany had been hard-pressed to face the sheriff in the shadowy hallway of the diner. Facing him in the bright sun would be even worse. She could feel her face reddening at the thought.
“Here. Doris sent this for you.” Jake’s voice startled Tiffany from her thoughts and she turned, reaching for a carryout cup being thrust through the open window.
“Thanks.” Tiffany took a sip from the straw, smiling as the cool freshness of the soda hit her tongue.
“She sent these, too.” A brown bag followed the cup through the window. “Go ahead and eat one. I’m going to give the dog some water before we take off.”
Tiffany tried to ignore the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon that wafted through the truck as he moved away. Instead she concentrated on Jake, watching as he walked back to the diner and returned a few moments later with a plastic bowl. He smiled at someone who called his name, waved at someone else. All in all, the picture of an affable law officer.
But Tiffany sensed something else, a tension that lay behind the smile, a hardness around his mouth and jaw that warned of things better left hidden. Jake Reed played the part well, but Tiffany doubted his heart was that of a small-town sheriff. She’d heard rumors. Heard that he was a city cop. A man used to violent crime and hardened criminals. She’d heard he was ethical, tough-minded and fair.
What she hadn’t heard was what had brought him to Lakeview.
“All right. We’re set. Where to?” Jake slid into the driver’s seat, casting a glance in Tiffany’s direction.
“I live on Monroe Street.”
Jake turned the key in the ignition and the Chevy sprang to life. “Mind if I have one of those?” He reached over and grabbed the bag out of Tiffany’s hand, opening it up and lifting out a pastry.
Tiffany’s mouth watered and she turned her eyes away from temptation.
“Want one?” Jake held the bag out toward her.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” The loud rumble of Tiffany’s stomach belied her words. Jake lifted an eyebrow, his bland expression replaced for a moment by a flicker of something else. Amusement, no doubt.
“You sure?”
Tiffany nodded and turned away before she changed her mind.
“All right then. Let’s get you home. You cool enough?”
“Pardon?” Tiffany had been so intent on ignoring the heavenly aroma still wafting through the truck that she missed Jake’s question.
“Do you want me to turn on the air? It’s warming up out here.”
“No, thanks. I’m used to the heat.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Did you grow up around here?” Tiffany seized on Jake’s words. Anything to get her mind off the bag of pastries sitting on the seat between her and the sheriff.
“No. I grew up in D.C. It’s hot and humid there in the summer. Here on the lake the air doesn’t seem quite so heavy.”
“I visited D.C. my senior year of high